Russian folk tales for children 10 years old. Russian folk tales - the wisdom of a great people

A fairy tale about a military secret, Malchish-Kibalchish and his firm word.
- Tell me, Natka, a fairy tale, - the blue-eyed girl asked and smiled guiltily.
- A fairy tale? thought Natka. - I don't know fairy tales. Or not... I'll tell you Alkin's tale. Can? she asked the alerted Alka.
- You can, - Alka allowed, proudly looking at the hushed Octobrists.
- I will tell Alkin a fairy tale in my own words. And if I forgot something or say something wrong, then let him correct me. Well, listen!

“In those distant, distant years, when the war had just died down throughout the country, there lived and was Malchish-Kibalchish.
At that time, the Red Army drove the white troops of the accursed bourgeois far away, and it became quiet in those wide fields, in green meadows where rye grew, where buckwheat bloomed, where among the dense gardens and cherry bushes stood the little house in which Malchish lived, nicknamed Kibalchish Yes, Malchish's father, and Malchish's older brother, but they didn't have a mother.
The father works - he mows hay. My brother works - he carries hay. Yes, and the Malchish himself either helps his father or his brother, or simply jumps and indulges with other boys.
Hop!.. Hop!.. Good! Bullets do not squeal, shells do not rumble, villages do not burn. No need to lie down on the floor from bullets, no need to hide in the cellars from shells, no need to run from fires into the forest. There is nothing to be afraid of the bourgeoisie. Someone to bow to the waist. Live and work - a good life!
One day - it was towards evening - Malchish-Kibalchish came out onto the porch. He looks - the sky is clear, the wind is warm, the sun sets behind the Black Mountains at night. And everything would be fine, but something is not good. Malchish hears, as if something is rattling, or something is knocking. It seems to the Malchish that the wind smells not of flowers from gardens, not of honey from meadows, but that the wind smells either of smoke from fires, or of gunpowder from explosions. He said to his father, and his father came tired.
- What you? he says to Malchish. - These are distant thunderstorms thundering beyond the Black Mountains. These are the shepherds smoking bonfires across the Blue River, herds grazing and cooking dinner. Go, Boy, and sleep well.
Malchish left. Went to sleep. But he can't sleep - well, he can't fall asleep at all.
Suddenly he hears a clatter in the street, a knock at the windows. Malchish-Kibalchish looked, and he saw: a rider was standing at the window. The horse is black, the saber is light, the hat is gray, and the star is red.
- Hey, get up! shouted the rider. - Trouble came from where they did not expect. The accursed bourgeois attacked us from behind the Black Mountains. Bullets are already whistling again, shells are already exploding again. Our detachments are fighting with the bourgeois, and messengers are rushing to call for help from the distant Red Army.
So said these alarming words the red-star rider and sped away. And Malchish's father went up to the wall, took off his rifle, threw in his bag and put on a bandolier.
- Well, - he says to his eldest son, - I sowed rye thickly - it is clear that you will have to harvest a lot. Well, - he says to Malchish, - I lived a cool life, and you, Malchish, will have to live quietly for me.
So he said, kissed Malchish warmly and left. And he had no time to kiss a lot, because now everyone could see and hear how explosions hum beyond the meadows and the dawns burn behind the mountains from the glow of smoky fires ... "

So I say, Alka? - Asked Natka, looking around the hushed guys.
- So ... so, Natka, - Alka answered quietly and put his hand on her tanned shoulder.

- “Well ... A day passes, two passes. Malchish will come out onto the porch: no ... the Red Army will not be seen yet. The boy will climb onto the roof. All day from the roof does not get off. No, you can't see. He went to bed at night. Suddenly he hears a clatter in the street, a knock at the window. Malchish looked out: the same rider was standing at the window. Only the horse is thin and tired, only the saber is bent, dark, only the hat is shot through, the star is chopped, and the head is tied.
- Hey, get up! shouted the rider. - It was half the trouble, and now the trouble is all around. Many bourgeois, but few of ours. Clouds of bullets in the field, thousands of shells on detachments. Hey, get up, let's help!
Then the elder brother got up and said to Malchish:
- Farewell, Malchish ... You are left alone ... Cabbage soup in the cauldron, loaf on the table, water in the keys, and your head on your shoulders ... Live as you can, but don't wait for me.
A day passes, two passes. Malchish is sitting by the chimney on the roof, and Malchish sees an unfamiliar rider galloping from afar.
The rider galloped to Malchish, jumped off his horse and said:
- Give me, good Malchish, some water to drink. I didn’t drink for three days, I didn’t sleep for three nights, I drove three horses. The Red Army found out about our misfortune. The trumpeters blew on all signal trumpets. The drummers beat on all the loud drums. The standard-bearers unfurled all the battle banners. Rushing and galloping to the aid of the entire Red Army. oskazkah.ru - site If only we, Malchish, could hold out until tomorrow night.
Tears Malchish from the roof, brought to drink. The messenger got drunk and rode on.
Here evening comes, and the Malchish went to bed. But the Boy can't sleep - well, what kind of dream is that?
Suddenly he hears steps on the street, a rustle at the window. Malchish looked and saw: the same man was standing at the window. That one, but not that one: there is no horse - the horse is gone, and there is no saber - the saber is broken, and there is no hat - the hat has fallen off, and he himself is standing - staggering.
- Hey, get up! he shouted for the last time. - And there are shells, but the arrows are beaten. And there are rifles, but there are few fighters. And help is close, but there is no strength. Hey, get up, who else is left! If only we could stand the night and last the day.
Malchish-Kibalchish looked into the street: an empty street. The shutters do not slam, the gates do not creak - there is no one to get up. And the fathers left, and the brothers left - no one was left.
Only the Malchish sees that one old grandfather at a hundred years old has come out of the gate. Grandfather wanted to pick up a rifle, but he is so old that he won't pick it up. Grandfather wanted to fasten a saber, but he is so weak that he will not fasten. Then the grandfather sat down on the mound, lowered his head and cried ...

So I say, Alka? - Asked Natka to take a breath, and looked around.

More than one Octobrist listened to this Alka's tale. Who knows when, the entire pioneer Ioskino link crawled silently. And even the Bashkir Emine, who only barely understood Russian, sat thoughtful and serious. Even the mischievous Vlad, who was lying at a distance, pretending that he was not listening, actually listened, because he was lying quietly, not talking to anyone and not hurting anyone.

So, Natka, so ... Even better than that, - Alka answered, moving even closer to her.

- “Well ... The old grandfather sat down on the mound, lowered his head and cried.
It hurt then the Malchish became. Then Malchish-Kibalchish jumped out into the street and shouted loudly:
- Hey, you boys, boys, babies! Or should we boys just play with sticks and jump rope? And the fathers are gone, and the brothers are gone. Or should we boys sit and wait for the bourgeoisie to come and take us to their damned bourgeoisie?
How did the little boys hear such words, how they will scream in all voices! Who runs out the door, who climbs out the window, who jumps through the wattle fence.
Everyone wants to help. Only one Malchish-Plokhish wanted to go to the bourgeoisie. But this bad guy was so cunning that he didn’t say anything to anyone, but pulled up his pants and rushed along with everyone, as if to help.
Boys fight from dark night to bright dawn. Only one Plokhish does not fight, but keeps walking and looking out for how to help the bourgeoisie. And Plokhish sees that there is a mass of boxes behind the hill, and black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges are hidden in those boxes. "Hey," thought Bad Boy, "that's what I need."
Meanwhile, the Chief Burzhuin asks his bourgeois:
- Well, bourgeois, have you achieved victory?
- No, the Chief Bourgeois, - the bourgeois answer, - we defeated our fathers and brothers, and our victory was completely, but Malchish-Kibalchish rushed to their aid, and we still can’t cope with him.
Then the Chief Burzhuin was very surprised and angry, and he shouted in a menacing voice:
- Is it possible that they could not cope with Malchish? Oh, you worthless cowards-bourgeoischi! How can you not break such a small one? Download quickly and don't come back without a win.
Here the bourgeois sit and think: what is it for them to do? Suddenly they see: Malchish-Plokhish crawls out from behind the bushes and straight to them.
- Rejoice! he shouts at them. - It's all I, Bad Boy, did. I chopped wood, I hauled hay, and I set fire to all the boxes with black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges. That's going to crash now!
The bourgeois were delighted then, they quickly enrolled Malchish-Plokhish in their bourgeoisie and gave him a whole barrel of jam and a whole basket of cookies.
The Malchish-Plohish sits, eats and rejoices.
Suddenly, the lit boxes exploded! And it sounded so loud, as if thousands of thunders struck in one place and thousands of lightnings flashed from one cloud.
- Treason! shouted Malchish-Kibalchish.
- Treason! - shouted all his faithful boys.
But then, because of the smoke and fire, a bourgeois force swooped in, and grabbed and twisted Malchish-Kibalchish.
They chained the Malchish in heavy chains. They put Malchish in a stone tower. And they rushed to ask: what will the Chief Bourgeois now order to do with the captive Malchish?
The Chief Bourgeois thought for a long time, and then he came up with and said:
- We will destroy this Malchish. But let him first tell us the whole of their Military Secret. You go, bourgeois, and ask him:
Why, Malchish, did Forty Tsars and Forty Kings fight with the Red Army, fought, fought, but only crashed themselves?
“Why, Malchish, are all the prisons full, and all the penal servitudes full, and all the gendarmes at the corners, and all the troops on their feet, but we have no rest either on a bright day or on a dark night?
- Why, Malchish, cursed Kibalchish, and in my High Bourgeoisdom, and in another - the Plain Kingdom, and in the third - the Snow Kingdom, and in the fourth - Sultry State on the same day in early spring and on the same day in late autumn on different languages, but they sing the same songs, in different hands, but they carry the same banners, they say the same speeches, they think the same and do the same?
You ask, bourgeois:
- Isn't it, Malchish, the Red Army has a military secret? Let him tell the secret.
- Do our workers have someone else's help? And let him tell you where help comes from.
- Isn't there, Malchish, a secret passage from your country to all other countries, on which, as they click on you, they respond to us, as they sing from you, so they pick up from us, what they say from you, we think about it?
The bourgeois left, but soon returned back:
- No, Chief Bourgeois, Malchish-Kibalchish did not reveal the Military Secret to us. He laughed in our face.
- There is, - he says, - and a powerful secret in the strong Red Army. And whenever you attack, you will not win.
- There is, - he says, - and innumerable help, and no matter how much you throw into prisons, you still don’t throw it, and you will not have peace either on a bright day or on a dark night.
- There are, - he says, - and deep secret passages. But no matter how much you search, you still won't find it. And they would have found it, so don’t fill it up, don’t lay it down, don’t fall asleep. And I won’t say anything more to you, the bourgeois, but you damned ones yourself will never guess.
Then the Chief Bourgeois frowned and said:
- Make, bourgeois, this secretive Malchish-Kibalchish the most terrible Torment that exists in the world, and extort from him the Military Secret, because we will have neither life nor peace without this important Secret.
The bourgeois have gone, but now they will not return soon. They walk and shake their heads.
- No, - they say, - our chief Bourgeois. He stood pale, Malchish, but proud, and he did not tell us the Military Secret, because he had such a firm word. And when we were leaving, he sank to the floor, put his ear to the heavy stone of the cold floor, and, would you believe it, O Chief Bourgeois, he smiled so that we, the bourgeois, shuddered, and we were afraid that he had not heard, how our inevitable death walks along the secret passages? ..
- This is not a secret ... this is the Red Army galloping! - Karasikov, who could not bear the october, shouted enthusiastically.
And he waved his hand with an imaginary saber so belligerently that the very girl who until recently, jumping on one leg, fearlessly teased him “Karasik-rugasik”, looked at him with displeasure and, just in case, moved away.

Here Natka interrupted the story, because from afar there was a signal for dinner.
- Tell me, - commandingly said Alka, angrily looking into her face.
- Tell me, - Ioska, flushed, said convincingly. - We will quickly line up for this.
Natka looked around: none of the children got up. She saw many, many childish heads - blond, dark, chestnut, golden-haired. Eyes looked at her from everywhere: large, brown, like Alka's; clear, cornflower blue, like that blue-eyed woman who asked for a fairy tale; narrow, black, like Emine's. And many, many other eyes - usually cheerful and mischievous, but now thoughtful and serious.
- Okay guys, I'll tell you.

“... And we became afraid, Chief Bourgeois, that he hadn’t heard our inevitable death walking through the secret passages? ..
- What country is it? - then exclaimed the surprised Chief Bourgeois. - What kind of incomprehensible country is this, in which even such kids know the Military Secret and keep their firm word so tightly? Hurry up, bourgeois, and destroy this proud Malchish. Load up your cannons, take out your sabers, unfurl our bourgeois banners, because I can hear our signalmen trumpeting the alarm and our wavers waving their flags. It can be seen that we will now have not an easy battle, but a hard battle.

And Malchish-Kibalchish died ... "- said Natka.
At these unexpected words, the face of the Octobrist Karasikov suddenly became sad, bewildered, and he no longer waved his hand. The blue-eyed girl frowned, and Ioska's freckled face became angry, as if he had just been deceived or offended. The guys stirred, whispered, and only Alka, who already knew this tale, sat quietly alone.

“But… did you guys see the storm? Just like the thunders, the military guns rumbled. Just like lightning, fiery explosions flashed. Just like the winds, cavalry detachments burst in, and just like clouds, red banners swept through. This is how the Red Army advanced.
Have you seen torrential thunderstorms in a dry and hot summer? Just as the streams, running down from the dusty mountains, merged into turbulent, foamy streams, just at the first rumble of war, uprisings began to boil in the Mountain bourgeoisie, and thousands of angry voices responded from the Plain Kingdom, and from the Snow Kingdom, and from the Sultry State .
And the broken Chief Bourgeois fled in fear, loudly cursing this country with its amazing people, with its invincible army and with its unsolved Military Secret.
And Malchish-Kibalchish was buried on a green mound near the Blue River. And they put a big red flag over the grave. Steamboats are sailing - hello to Malchish!
Pilots are flying by - hello to Malchish!
Steam locomotives will run - hello to Malchish!
And the pioneers will pass - salute to the Malchish!

Here you guys, and the whole fairy tale.

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Arkady Gaidar

Tale of military secrets

Malchish-Kibalchish and his firm word

In those distant, distant years, when the war had just died down throughout the country, there lived and was Malchish-Kibalchish.

At that time, the Red Army drove the white troops of the accursed bourgeois far away, and it became quiet in those wide fields, in green meadows where rye grew, where buckwheat bloomed, where among the dense gardens and cherry bushes stood the little house in which Malchish lived, nicknamed Kibalchish Yes, Malchish's father, and Malchish's older brother, but they didn't have a mother.

Father is working - mowing hay. My brother works - he carries hay. Yes, and the Malchish himself either helps his father or his brother, or simply jumps and indulges with other boys.

Hop!.. Hop!.. Good! Bullets do not squeal, shells do not rumble, villages do not burn. No need to lie down on the floor from bullets, no need to hide in the cellars from shells, no need to run from fires into the forest. There is nothing to be afraid of the bourgeoisie. Someone to bow to the waist. Live and work - a good life!

Then one day - it was towards evening - Malchish-Kibalchish came out onto the porch. He looks - the sky is clear, the wind is warm, the sun sets behind the Black Mountains at night. And everything would be fine, but something is not good. Malchish hears, as if something is rattling, or something is knocking. It seems to the Malchish that the wind smells not of flowers from gardens, not of honey from meadows, but that the wind smells either of smoke from fires, or of gunpowder from explosions. He said to his father, and his father came tired.

What you? he says to the boy. “These are distant thunderstorms rumbling beyond the Black Mountains. These are the shepherds smoking bonfires across the Blue River, herds grazing and cooking dinner. Go, Boy, and sleep well.

Malchish left. Went to sleep. But he can't sleep - well, he can't fall asleep at all.

Hey, get up! shouted the rider. - Trouble came from where they did not expect. The accursed bourgeois attacked us from behind the Black Mountains. Bullets are already whistling again, shells are already exploding again. Our detachments are fighting with the bourgeois, and messengers are rushing to call for help from the distant Red Army.

So said these alarming words the red-star rider and sped away. And Malchish's father went up to the wall, took off his rifle, threw in his bag and put on a bandolier.

Well, - he says to his eldest son, - I sowed rye thickly - it is clear that you will have to harvest a lot. Well, - he says to Malchish, - I lived a cool life, and you, Malchish, will have to live quietly for me.

So he said, kissed Malchish warmly and left. And he had no time to kiss much, because now everyone could see and hear how explosions hum beyond the meadows and the dawns burn behind the mountains from the glow of smoky fires ...

A day passes, two passes. Malchish will come out onto the porch: no ... the Red Army will not be seen yet. The boy will climb onto the roof. All day from the roof does not get off. No, you can't see. He went to bed at night. Suddenly he hears a clatter in the street, a knock at the window. Malchish looked out: the same rider was standing at the window. Only the horse is thin and tired, only the saber is bent, dark, only the hat is shot through, the star is chopped, and the head is tied.

Hey, get up! shouted the rider. - It was half the trouble, and now the trouble is all around. Many bourgeois, but few of ours. Clouds of bullets in the field, thousands of shells on detachments. Hey, get up, let's help!

Then the elder brother got up and said to Malchish:

Farewell, Malchish... You are left alone... Cabbage soup in the cauldron, a loaf on the table, water in the springs, and your head on your shoulders... Live as best you can, but don't wait for me.

A day passes, two passes. Malchish is sitting by the chimney on the roof, and Malchish sees an unfamiliar rider galloping from afar.

The rider galloped to Malchish, jumped off his horse and said:

Give me, good Malchish, some water to drink. I didn’t drink for three days, I didn’t sleep for three nights, I drove three horses. The Red Army found out about our misfortune. The trumpeters blew on all signal trumpets. The drummers beat on all the loud drums. The standard-bearers unfurled all the battle banners. Rushing and galloping to the aid of the entire Red Army. If only we, Malchish, hold out until tomorrow night.

Tears Malchish from the roof, brought to drink. The messenger got drunk and rode on.

Here evening comes, and the Malchish went to bed. But the Boy can't sleep - well, what kind of dream is that?

Suddenly he hears footsteps in the street, a rustle at the window. Malchish looked and saw: the same man was standing at the window. That one, but not that one: and there is no horse - the horse is gone, and there is no saber - the saber is broken, and there is no hat - the hat has flown off, and he himself is standing - staggering.

Hey, get up! he shouted for the last time. - And there are shells, but the arrows are beaten. And there are rifles, but there are few fighters. And help is close, but there is no strength. Hey, get up, who else is left! If only we could stand the night and last the day.

Malchish-Kibalchish looked into the street: an empty street. Shutters don't slam, gates don't creak—there's no one to get up. And the fathers left, and the brothers left - no one was left.

Only the Malchish sees that one old grandfather at a hundred years old has come out of the gate. Grandfather wanted to pick up a rifle, but he is so old that he won't pick it up. Grandfather wanted to fasten a saber, but he is so weak that he will not fasten. Then the grandfather sat down on the mound, lowered his head and began to cry.

It hurt then the Malchish became. Then Malchish-Kibalchish jumped out into the street and shouted loudly:

How did the little boys hear such words, how they will scream in all voices! Who runs out the door, who climbs out the window, who jumps through the wattle fence.

Everyone wants to help. Only one Malchish-Plokhish wanted to go to the bourgeoisie. But this bad guy was so cunning that he didn’t say anything to anyone, but pulled up his pants and rushed along with everyone, as if to help.

Notes: Dedicated to the Russian Soldier.

Tell me, Natka, a fairy tale, - the blue-eyed girl asked and smiled guiltily.
- A fairy tale? thought Natka. - I don't know fairy tales. Or not... I'll tell you Alkin's tale. Can? she asked the alerted Alka.
- You can, - Alka allowed, proudly looking at the hushed Octobrists.
- I will tell Alkin a fairy tale in my own words. And if I forgot something or say something wrong, then let him correct me. Well, listen!

In those distant, distant years, when the war had just died down throughout the country, there lived and was Malchish-Kibalchish.
At that time, the Red Army drove the white troops of the damned bourgeois far away, and it became quiet in those wide fields, in green meadows where rye grew, where buckwheat bloomed, where among the dense gardens and cherry bushes stood the little house in which Malchish lived, nicknamed Kibalchish Yes, Malchish's father, and Malchish's older brother, but they didn't have a mother.

The father works - he mows hay. My brother works - he carries hay. Yes, and the Malchish himself either helps his father or his brother, or simply jumps and indulges with other boys.

One day - it was towards evening - Malchish-Kibalchish came out onto the porch. He looks - the sky is clear, the wind is warm, the sun sets behind the Black Mountains at night. And everything would be fine, but something is not good. Malchish hears, as if something is rattling, or something is knocking. It seems to the Boy that the wind smells not of flowers from gardens, not of honey from meadows, but that the wind smells either of smoke from fires, or of gunpowder from explosions. He said to his father, and his father came tired.

What you? he says to Malchish. - These are distant thunderstorms thundering beyond the Black Mountains. These are the shepherds smoking bonfires across the Blue River, herds grazing and cooking dinner. Go, Boy, and sleep well.
Malchish left. Went to sleep. But he can’t sleep - well, he can’t fall asleep at all.

Suddenly he hears a clatter in the street, a knock at the windows. Malchish-Kibalchish looked, and he saw: a rider was standing at the window. The horse is black, the saber is light, the hat is gray, and the star is red.
- Hey, get up! shouted the rider. - Trouble came from where they did not expect. The damned bourgeois attacked us from behind the Black Mountains. Bullets are already whistling again, shells are already exploding again. Our detachments are fighting with the bourgeois, and messengers are rushing to call for help from the distant Red Army.

So the red-star rider said these disturbing words and sped away. And Malchish's father went up to the wall, took off his rifle, threw in his bag and put on a bandolier.
- Well, - he says to his eldest son, - I sowed rye thickly - it is clear that you will have to harvest a lot. Well, - he says to Malchish, - I lived a cool life ... and it’s good to live for me, apparently, you, Malchish, will have to.

So he said, kissed Malchish hard and left. And he had no time to kiss much, because now everyone could see and hear how explosions hum beyond the meadows and the dawns burn behind the mountains from the glow of smoky fires ...

So I say, Alka? - Asked Natka, looking around the hushed guys.
- So... so, Natka, - Alka answered quietly and put his hand on her tanned shoulder.
- Well, here ... A day passes, two passes. Malchish will come out onto the porch: no ... the Red Army will not be seen yet. The boy will climb onto the roof. All day from the roof does not get off. No, you can't see. He lay down to sleep at night. Suddenly he hears a clatter in the street, a knock at the window. Malchish looked out: the same rider was standing at the window. Only the horse is thin and tired, only the saber is bent, dark, only the hat is shot through, the star is chopped, and the head is tied.

Then the elder brother got up and said to Malchish:
- Farewell, Malchish ... You are left alone ... Cabbage soup in the cauldron, a loaf on the table, water in the keys, and your head on your shoulders ... Live as you can, but don't wait for me.

A day passes, two passes. Malchish sits by the chimney on the roof and sees Malchish that an unfamiliar rider is galloping from afar.
The rider galloped to Malchish, jumped off his horse and said:
- Give me, good Malchish, some water to drink. I didn’t drink for three days, I didn’t sleep for three nights, I drove three horses. The Red Army found out about our misfortune. The trumpeters blew all the signal trumpets. The drummers beat on all the loud drums. The standard-bearers unfurled their battle flags. Rushing and galloping to the aid of the entire Red Army. If only we, Malchish, hold out until tomorrow night.

Tears Malchish from the roof, brought to drink. The messenger got drunk and rode on.
Here evening comes, and the Malchish lay down to sleep. But the Malchish cannot sleep, - well, what kind of dream is that?

Suddenly he hears steps on the street, a rustle at the window. The Malchish looked and saw: the same man was standing at the window. That one, but not that one: there is no horse - the horse is gone, and there is no saber - the saber is broken, and there is no hat - the hat has fallen off, and he himself is standing - staggering.
- Hey, get up! he shouted for the last time. - And there are shells, but the arrows are beaten. And there are rifles, but there are few fighters. And help is close, but there is no strength. Hey, get up, who else is left! If only we could stand the night and last the day!

Malchish-Kibalchish looked into the street: an empty street. The shutters do not slam, the gates do not creak - there is no one to get up: both the fathers are gone, and the brothers are gone - there is no one left.
Only the Malchish sees that one old grandfather at a hundred years old has come out of the gate. Grandfather wanted to pick up a rifle, but he is so old that he won't pick it up. Grandfather wanted to fasten a saber, but he is so weak that he will not fasten. Then the grandfather sat down on the mound, lowered his head and cried ...
- So I say, Alka? - Asked Natka to take a breath, and looked around.

More than one Octobrist listened to this Alka's tale. Who knows when, the entire pioneer Ioskino link crawled silently. And even the Bashkir Emine, who barely understood Russian, sat thoughtful and serious. Even the mischievous Vlad, who was lying at a distance, pretending that he was not listening, actually listened, because he was lying quietly, not talking to anyone and not hurting anyone.

So, Natka, so ... Even better than that, - Alka replied, moving even closer to her.
- Well, here ... The old grandfather sat down on the mound, lowered his head and began to cry.
It hurt then the Malchish became. Then Malchish-Kibalchish jumped out into the street and shouted loudly:

Hey, you boys, boys, babies! Or should we boys just play with sticks and jump rope? And the fathers are gone, and the brothers are gone. Or should we boys sit and wait for the bourgeoisie to come and take us to their damned bourgeoisie?
How did the little boys hear such words, how they will scream in all voices! Who runs out the door, who climbs out the window, who jumps through the wattle fence.

Boys fight from dark night to bright dawn. Only one Plokhish does not fight, but keeps walking and looking out for how to help the bourgeoisie. And Bad Boy sees that there is a pile of boxes behind the hill, and black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges are hidden in those boxes.

"Hey," thought Bad Boy, "that's what I need."
Meanwhile, the Chief Burzhuin asks his bourgeois:
- Well, bourgeois, have you achieved victory?
- No, Chief Burzhuin, - the bourgeois answer, - we defeated our fathers and brothers, and our victory was completely, but Malchish-Kibalchish rushed to their aid, and we still can’t cope with him.

Then the Chief Burzhuin was very surprised and angry, and he shouted in a menacing voice:
- Is it possible that they could not cope with Malchish? Oh, you worthless cowards-bourgeoischi! How can you not break such a small one? Download soon and don't come back without a win!
Here the bourgeois sit and think: what is it for them to do? Suddenly they see: Malchish-Plokhish crawls out from behind the bushes and straight to them.

Rejoice! he shouts at them. - It's all I, Bad Boy, did. I chopped wood, I hauled hay, and I set fire to all the boxes with black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges. That's going to crash now!
The bourgeois were delighted then, they quickly enrolled Malchish-Plokhish in their bourgeoisie and gave him a whole barrel of jam and a whole basket of cookies.

The Malchish-Bad Boy sits, eats and rejoices.
Suddenly, the lit boxes exploded! And it sounded so loud, as if thousands of thunders struck in one place and thousands of lightnings flashed from one cloud.
- Treason! shouted Malchish-Kibalchish.
- Treason! - shouted all his faithful boys.

But then, because of the smoke and fire, a bourgeois force swooped in, and twisted and grabbed Malchish-Kibalchish.
They chained the Malchish in heavy chains. They put Malchish in a stone tower. And they rushed to ask: what about the prisoner

Will the Chief Bourgeois order now to do as a boy? The Chief Bourgeois thought for a long time, and then he came up with and said:
- We will destroy this Malchish. But let him first tell us the whole of their Military Secret. You go, bourgeois, and ask him:
Why, Malchish, did Forty Tsars and Forty Kings fight with the Red Army, fought, fought, but only crashed themselves?
“Why, Malchish, are all the prisons full, and all the penal servitudes full, and all the gendarmes at the corners, and all the troops on their feet, but we have no rest either on a bright day or on a dark night?
- Why, Malchish, damned Kibalchish, and in my High Bourgeoisdom, and in another - the Plain Kingdom, and in the third - the Snow Kingdom, and in the fourth - Sultry State on the same day, in early spring, and on the same day, in late autumn, in different languages, but they sing the same songs, in different hands, but they carry the same banners, they say the same speeches, they think the same and do the same?

You ask, bourgeois:
- Isn't it, Malchish, the Red Army has a military secret? Let him tell the secret.
- Do our workers have someone else's help? And let him tell you where help comes from.
- Isn't there, Malchish, a secret passage from your country to all other countries, on which, as they click on you, they respond to us, as they sing from you, so they pick up from us, what they say from you, we think about it?

The bourgeois left, but soon returned back:
- No, Chief Bourgeois, Malchish-Kibalchish did not reveal the Military Secret to us. He laughed in our face.
- There is, - he says, - and a powerful secret in the strong Red Army. And whenever you attack, you will not win.
- There is, - he says, - and innumerable help, and no matter how much you throw into prisons, you still don’t throw it, and you will not have peace either on a bright day or on a dark night.

There are, - he says, - and deep secret passages. But no matter how much you search, you still won’t find it ... And if you found it, don’t fill it up, don’t lay it down and don’t fall asleep. And I won’t say anything more to you, the bourgeois, but you damned ones yourself will never guess.

Then the Chief Bourgeois frowned and said:
- Make, bourgeois, this secretive Malchish-Kibalchish the most terrible Torment that exists in the world, and extort from him the Military Secret, because we will have neither life nor peace without this important Secret.
The bourgeois have gone, but now they will not return soon. They walk and shake their heads.

No, they say, our boss, Chief Burzhuin. He stood pale, Malchish, but proud, and he did not tell us the Military Secret, because he had such a firm word. And when we were leaving, he sank to the floor, put his ear to the heavy stone of the cold floor, and, would you believe it, O Chief Burzhuin, he smiled so that we, the bourgeois, shuddered, and we were afraid that he had not heard, How does our inevitable death walk along the secret passages?

It's not secret... It's the Red Army galloping! - Karasikov, who could not stand the October Revolution, shouted enthusiastically.
And he waved his hand with an imaginary saber so belligerently that the same girl who until recently, jumping on one leg, fearlessly teased him "Karasik-rugasik", looked at him with displeasure and, just in case, moved away.
Here Natka interrupted the story, because from afar there was a signal for dinner.

Tell me! Alka commanded imperiously, looking angrily into her face.
- Tell me! - convincingly said flushed Ioska. - We will quickly line up for this.
Natka looked around: none of the children got up. She saw many, many childish heads - blond, dark, chestnut, golden-haired. Eyes looked at her from everywhere: big, brown, like Alka's; clear, cornflower blue, like that blue-eyed woman who asked for a fairy tale; narrow, black, like Emine's. And many, many other eyes - usually cheerful and mischievous, but now thoughtful and serious.

Okay guys, I'll tell you.
... And we were afraid, Chief Bourgeois, that he had not heard how our inevitable death was walking through the secret passages.
- What is this country? - then exclaimed the surprised Chief Bourgeois. - What kind of incomprehensible country is this, in which even such kids know the Military Secret and keep their firm word so tightly? Hurry up, bourgeois, and destroy this proud Malchish. Load up your cannons, take out your sabers, unfurl our bourgeois banners, because I can hear our signalmen trumpeting the alarm and our wavers waving their flags. It can be seen that we will now have not an easy battle, but a hard battle.

And Malchish-Kibalchish died ... - Natka said.
At these unexpected words, the face of the Octobrist Karasikov suddenly became sad, bewildered, and he no longer waved his hand. The blue-eyed girl frowned, and Ioska's freckled face became angry, as if he had just been deceived or offended. The guys stirred, whispered, and only Alka, who already knew this tale, sat quietly alone.

But ... did you guys see the storm? - Natka asked loudly, looking around at the silent guys. - Just like thunders, military guns thundered; just like lightning, fiery explosions flashed; just like the winds, cavalry troops burst in, and just like clouds, red banners swept through. This is how the Red Army advanced.

Have you seen torrential thunderstorms in a dry and hot summer? Just as the streams, running down from the dusty mountains, merged into turbulent, foamy streams, just at the first rumble of war, uprisings began to boil in the Mountain bourgeoisie, and thousands of angry voices responded from the Plain Kingdom, and from the Snow Kingdom, and from the Sultry State .

And the broken Chief Bourgeois fled in fear, loudly cursing this country with its amazing people, with its invincible army and with its unsolved Military Secret.
And Malchish-Kibalchish was buried on a green mound near the Blue River. And they put a big red flag over the grave.

Steamboats are sailing - hello to the Malchish!
Pilots are flying by - hello to Malchish!
Locomotives run by - hello to Malchish!
And the pioneers will pass - salute to the Malchish!
Here you guys, and the whole fairy tale.

In those distant, distant years, when the war had just died down throughout the country, there lived and was Malchish-Kibalchish.

The father works - he mows hay. My brother works - he carries hay. Yes, and the Malchish himself either helps his father or his brother, or simply jumps and indulges with other boys.

One day - it was towards evening - Malchish-Kibalchish came out onto the porch. He looks - the sky is clear, the wind is warm, the sun sets behind the Black Mountains at night. And everything would be fine, but something is not good. Malchish hears, as if something is rattling, or something is knocking. It seems to the Malchish that the wind smells not of flowers from gardens, not of honey from meadows, but that the wind smells either of smoke from fires, or of gunpowder from explosions. He said to his father, and his father came tired.

Malchish left. Went to sleep. But he can't sleep - well, he can't fall asleep at all.

So said these alarming words the red-star rider and sped away. And Malchish's father went up to the wall, took off his rifle, threw in his bag and put on a bandolier.

Then the elder brother got up and said to Malchish:

Farewell, Malchish... You are left alone... Cabbage soup in the cauldron, a loaf on the table, water in the springs, and your head on your shoulders... Live as best you can, but don't wait for me.

A day passes, two passes. Malchish is sitting by the chimney on the roof, and Malchish sees an unfamiliar rider galloping from afar.

The rider galloped to Malchish, jumped off his horse and said:

Tears Malchish from the roof, brought to drink. The messenger got drunk and rode on.

Here evening comes, and the Malchish went to bed. But the Boy can't sleep - well, what kind of dream is that?

Suddenly he hears steps on the street, a rustle at the window. Malchish looked and saw: the same man was standing at the window. That one, but not that one: there is no horse - the horse is gone, and there is no saber - the saber is broken, and there is no hat - the hat has fallen off, and he himself is standing - staggering.

Malchish-Kibalchish looked into the street: an empty street. The shutters do not slam, the gates do not creak - there is no one to get up. And the fathers left, and the brothers left - no one was left.

It hurt then the Malchish became. Then Malchish-Kibalchish jumped out into the street and shouted loudly:

How did the little boys hear such words, how they will scream in all voices! Who runs out the door, who climbs out the window, who jumps through the wattle fence.

Boys fight from dark night to bright dawn. Only one Plokhish does not fight, but keeps walking and looking out for how to help the bourgeoisie. And Plokhish sees that there is a mass of boxes behind the hill, and black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges are hidden in those boxes. Hey, Bad Boy thought, this is what I need.

Meanwhile, the Chief Burzhuin asks his bourgeois:

Well, bourgeois, have you achieved victory?

No, Chief Burzhuin, - the bourgeois answer, - we defeated our fathers and brothers, and our victory was completely, but Malchish-Kibalchish rushed to their aid, and we still can’t cope with him.

Then the Chief Burzhuin was very surprised and angry, and he shouted in a menacing voice:

Could it be that they could not cope with Malchish? Oh, you worthless cowards-bourgeoischi! How can you not break such a small one? Download quickly and don't come back without a win.

Here the bourgeois sit and think: what is it for them to do? Suddenly they see: Malchish-Plokhish crawls out from behind the bushes and straight to them.

Rejoice! he shouts at them. - It's all I, Bad Boy, did. I chopped wood, I hauled hay, and I set fire to all the boxes with black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges. That's going to crash now!

The bourgeois were delighted then, they quickly enrolled Malchish-Plokhish in their bourgeoisie and gave him a whole barrel of jam and a whole basket of cookies.

The Malchish-Plohish sits, eats and rejoices.

Suddenly, the lit boxes exploded! And it sounded so loud, as if thousands of thunders struck in one place and thousands of lightnings flashed from one cloud.

Treason! shouted Malchish-Kibalchish.

Treason! - shouted all his faithful boys.

But then, because of the smoke and fire, a bourgeois force swooped in, and grabbed and twisted Malchish-Kibalchish.

They chained the Malchish in heavy chains. They put Malchish in a stone tower. And they rushed to ask: what will the Chief Bourgeois now order to do with the captive Malchish?

The Chief Bourgeois thought for a long time, and then he came up with and said:

We will destroy this Malchish. But let him first tell us the whole of their Military Secret. You go, bourgeois, and ask him:

Why, Malchish, did Forty Tsars and Forty Kings fight with the Red Army, fought, fought, but only crashed themselves?

Why, Malchish, are all the prisons full, and all the penal servitudes full, and all the gendarmes at the corners, and all the troops on their feet, but we have no rest either on a bright day or on a dark night?

Why, Malchish, cursed Kibalchish, and in my High Bourgeoisdom, and in another - the Plain Kingdom, and in the third - the Snow Kingdom, and in the fourth - Sultry State on the same day in early spring and on the same day in late autumn on different languages, but they sing the same songs, in different hands, but they carry the same banners, they speak the same speeches, they think the same and they do the same?

You ask, bourgeois:

Doesn't the Red Army have a military secret, Malchish?

And let him tell the secret.

Do our workers have foreign help?

And let him tell you where help comes from.

Isn’t there, Malchish, a secret passage from your country to all other countries, through which, as they call on you, they respond to us, as they sing from you, so they pick up from us, what they say from you, we think about it?

The bourgeois left, but soon returned back:

No, Chief Burzhuin, Malchish-Kibalchish did not reveal the Military Secret to us. He laughed in our face.

There is, - he says, - and a powerful secret in the strong Red Army. And whenever you attack, you will not win.

There is, - he says, - and innumerable help, and no matter how much you throw into prisons, you still don’t throw it, and you will have no rest either on a bright day or on a dark night.

There are, - he says, - and deep secret passages. But no matter how much you search, you still won't find it. And they would have found it, so don’t fill it up, don’t lay it down, don’t fall asleep. And I won’t say anything more to you, the bourgeois, but you damned ones yourself will never guess.

Then the Chief Bourgeois frowned and said:

Make, bourgeois, this secretive Malchish-Kibalchish the most terrible Torment that exists in the world, and extort from him the Military Secret, because we will have neither life nor peace without this important Secret.

The bourgeois have gone, but now they will not return soon.

They walk and shake their heads.

No, they say, our chief is Chief Burzhuin. He stood pale, Malchish, but proud, and he did not tell us the Military Secret, because he had such a firm word. And when we were leaving, he sank to the floor, put his ear to the heavy stone of the cold floor, and, would you believe it, O Chief Bourgeois, he smiled so that we, the bourgeois, shuddered, and we were afraid that he had not heard, how our inevitable death walks along the secret passages? ..

What country is it? - then exclaimed the surprised Chief Bourgeois. What kind of incomprehensible country is this, in which even such kids know the Military Secret and keep their firm word so firmly? Hurry up, bourgeois, and destroy this proud Malchish. Load up your cannons, take out your sabers, unfurl our bourgeois banners, because I can hear our signalmen trumpeting the alarm and our wavers waving their flags. It can be seen that we will now have not an easy battle, but a hard battle.

And Malchish-Kibalchish died...

But... did you guys see the storm? Just like the thunders, the military guns rumbled. Just like lightning, fiery explosions flashed. Just like the winds, cavalry detachments burst in, and just like clouds, red banners swept through. This is how the Red Army advanced.

And the broken Chief Bourgeois fled in fear, loudly cursing this country with its amazing people, with its invincible army and with its unsolved Military Secret.

And Malchish-Kibalchish was buried on a green mound near the Blue River. And they put a big red flag over the grave.

Steamboats are sailing - hello to the Malchish!

Pilots are flying by - hello to Malchish!

Steam locomotives will run - hello to Malchish!

And the pioneers will pass - salute to the Malchish!

Current page: 1 (total book has 1 pages)

Arkady Gaidar
TALE OF MILITARY SECRET
ABOUT KIBALCHISH
AND HIS STRONG WORD

To my brave son

Timur Gaidar

Natka, a fairy tale, - the glorious, blue-eyed one quietly asked and for some reason smiled guiltily.

- A fairy tale? thought Natka. - I don't know fairy tales. Or not... I'll tell you Alkin's tale. Can? she asked the alerted Alka.

“You can,” Alka allowed, proudly looking at the hushed Octobrists.

- I'll tell Alkin. And if I forgot something or say something wrong, then let him correct me. Well, listen:

“In those distant, ancient years, when the war had just died down throughout the country, there lived and was Malchish-Kibalchish.

At that time, the Red Army drove the White Troops of the damned bourgeoisie far away. It became quiet in those wide fields, in green meadows, where rye grew, where buckwheat blossomed, where among the dense gardens and cherry bushes stood the little house in which Malchish lived, nicknamed Kibalchish, and Malchish's father, and Malchish's older brother, - and his mother they were not.

The father works - he mows hay. My brother works - he carries hay. Yes, and the Malchish himself either helps his father, or helps his brother, or just jumps and indulges with other boys.

Whoop... whoop... good! Bullets do not squeal, shells do not rumble, villages do not burn. No need to lie down on the floor from bullets, no need to hide in the cellars from shells, no need to run from fires into the forest. There is nothing to be afraid of the bourgeoisie. Someone to bow to the waist. Live and work - a good life!

He said to his father, and his father came tired.

“What are you talking about,” he says to Malchish, “these are distant thunderstorms thundering beyond the Black Mountains. These are the shepherds smoking bonfires across the Blue River, herds grazing and cooking dinner. Go, Boy, and sleep well.

Malchish left. Went to sleep. But he can't sleep - well, he can't fall asleep at all.

Suddenly he hears a clatter in the street, a knock at the windows. Malchish-Kibalchish looked, and he saw: a rider was standing at the window. The horse is a crow. The saber is light. The hat is grey. And the star is red.

- Hey, get up! shouted the rider. - Trouble came from where they did not expect. The accursed bourgeois attacked us from behind the Black Mountains. Bullets are already whistling again, shells are already rattling again. Our detachments are fighting with the bourgeois, and messengers are rushing to call for help from the distant Red Army.

So said these alarming words the red-star rider and sped away. And Malchish's father went up to the wall, took off his rifle, threw in his bag and put on a bandolier.

“Well,” he says to his eldest son, “I sowed rye thickly, it seems that you will have to harvest a lot. Well, - he says to Malchish, - I lived a cool life, and it’s good to live for me, apparently, you, Malchish, will remain.

So he said, kissed Malchish warmly and left. And he had no time to kiss a lot, because now everyone could see and hear how heavy explosions hum beyond the meadows and the dawns burn behind the mountains from the glow of smoky fires.

- So I say, Alka? - Asked Natka, looking around the hushed guys.

- Yes, yes, Natka! Alka answered quietly and put his hand on her tanned shoulder.

“Well, here ... A day passes, two passes. The Malchish will come out onto the porch. No, the Red Army is not to be seen yet. The boy will climb onto the roof. All day - from the roof does not get off. No, you can't see. He went to bed at night. Suddenly he hears - there is a clatter in the street, a knock at the window. Malchish looked out: the same rider was standing at the window. Only the horse is thin and tired, only the saber is bent, dark, only the hat is shot through, the star is chopped, and the head is tied.

- Hey, get up! - shouted the horseman, - It was half the trouble, and now the trouble is all around. Many bourgeois, but few of ours. Clouds of bullets in the field, thousands of shells on detachments. Hey, get up, let's help!

Then the older brother got up and said to Malchish:

- Farewell, Malchish. You are left alone ... Shchi in the cauldron, loaf on the table, water in the springs, and the head on the shoulders. Live as you can, but don't wait for me.

A day passes, two passes. Malchish is sitting by the chimney on the roof, and Malchish sees an unfamiliar rider galloping from afar. The rider galloped to Malchish, jumped off his horse and said:

- Give me, good Malchish, some water to drink. I didn’t drink for three days, I didn’t sleep for three nights, I drove three horses. The Red Army found out about our misfortune. The trumpeters blew all the signal trumpets. The drummers beat on all the loud drums. The standard-bearers unfurled all the battle banners. Rushing and galloping to the aid of the entire Red Army.

If only we, Malchish, hold out until tomorrow night.

Tears Malchish from the roof, brought to drink. The messenger got drunk and rode on.

Here evening comes, and the Malchish went to bed. But the Malchish can't sleep - well, what kind of dream is that?

Suddenly he hears steps on the street, a rustle at the window. Malchish looked and saw: the same man was standing at the window. That one, but not that one: and there is no horse - the horse is gone, and there is no saber - the saber is broken, and there is no hat - the hat has flown off, and he himself is standing - staggering.

- Hey, get up! he shouted for the last time. - And there are shells, but the arrows are beaten. And there are rifles, but there are few fighters. And help is close, but there is no strength. Hey, get up, who else is left! If only we could stand the night and last the day!

Malchish-Kibalchish looked into the street: an empty street. The shutters do not slam, the gates do not creak - there is no one to get up, and the fathers are gone, and the brothers are gone - there is no one left.

Only the Malchish sees that one old grandfather at a hundred years old has come out of the gate. Grandfather wanted to pick up a rifle, but he was so old that he wouldn't pick it up. The grandfather wanted to fasten a saber, but he is so weak that he will not fasten it. Then the grandfather sat down on the mound, lowered his head and cried ... "

- So I say, Alka? Natka asked to take a breath and look around her.

More than one Octobrist listened to this Alka's tale. Already, who knows when, silently crawled all the pioneer Ioskino link and the Vasilyukov guys. Even the Bashkir Emine, who only somehow understood Russian, sat thoughtful and serious. Even the mischievous Vlad, who was lying at a distance, pretending that he was not listening, actually listened, because he was lying quietly, not talking to anyone and not hurting anyone.

- So, Natka, so ... Even better than that, - Alka answered, moving even closer to her.

“Well, here ... The old grandfather sat down on the mound, lowered his head and began to cry.

It hurt then the Malchish became. Then Malchish-Kibalchish jumped out into the street and shouted loudly:

- Hey, you boys! Little boys! Or we, the boys, only play sticks and jump ropes. And the fathers are gone, and the brothers are gone. Or should we boys sit and wait for the bourgeoisie to come and take us to their damned bourgeoisie?

How did the little boys hear such words, how they will scream in all voices! Who runs out the door, who climbs out the window, who jumps through the wattle fence.

Boys fight from dark night to bright dawn. Only one Plokhish does not fight, but keeps walking and looking out for how to do this treason. And Plokhish sees that there is a mass of boxes behind the hill, and black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges are hidden in those boxes.

"Hey," thought Bad Boy, "this is where I'm going to commit treason."

Meanwhile, the Chief Burzhuin asks his bourgeois:

- Well, bourgeoisie, did you achieve victory?

- No, Chief Burzhuin, - the bourgeoisie answer, - we defeated our fathers and brothers. And our victory was completely, but Malchish-Kibalchish rushed to their aid, and we still can’t cope with him.

Then the Chief Burzhuin was very surprised and angry, and he shouted in a menacing voice:

- Is it possible that they could not cope with Malchish? Oh, you worthless cowards-bourgeoischi! How can you not break such a small one? Download soon and don't come back without a win!

Here the bourgeoisie sit and think: what is it for them to do?

Suddenly they see: Malchish-Plokhish crawls out from behind the bushes - and straight to them.

- Rejoice! he shouts at them. - It's me, Plokhish, who committed treason. I chopped wood, I hauled hay, and I set fire to all the boxes with black bombs, white shells and yellow cartridges.

The bourgeoisie were delighted then, they quickly enrolled Malchish-Plokhish in their bourgeoisie and gave him a whole barrel of jam and a whole basket of cookies.

The Malchish-Plohish sits: he eats and rejoices.

Suddenly, the lit boxes exploded! And it sounded so loud, as if thousands of thunders struck in one place and thousands of lightnings flashed from one cloud.

- Treason! shouted Malchish-Kibalchish.

- Treason! shouted all his faithful boys.

But then, because of the smoke and fire, a bourgeois force swooped in, and twisted and grabbed Malchish-Kibalchish.

* * *

They chained the Malchish in heavy chains. They put Malchish in a stone tower. And they rushed to ask: what will the Chief Bourgeois now order to do with the captive Malchish?

The Chief Bourgeois thought for a long time, and then he came up with and said:

“We will destroy this Malchish. But let him first tell us the whole of their Military Secret. You go, bourgeoisie, and ask him:

Why, Malchish, did Forty Tsars and Forty Kings fight with the Red Army, fought, fought, but only crashed themselves?

“Why, Malchish, are all the prisons full, and all the penal servitudes full, and all the gendarmes at the corners, and all the troops on their feet, but we have no rest either on a bright day or on a dark night?

- Why, Malchish, damned Kibalchish, and in my Mountain bourgeoisie, and in another - the Plain Kingdom, and in the third - the Snow Kingdom, and in the fourth - Sultry State on the same day in early spring and on the same day in late autumn on different languages - but they sing the same songs, in different hands, but they carry the same banners, they say the same speeches, they think the same and do the same?

- You ask, bourgeoisie: is there, Malchish, the Red Army has a military secret? and let him tell the secret.

“Do our workers have someone else’s help?” - and let him tell you where help comes from.

- Isn't there, Malchish, a secret passage from your country to all other countries, through which, as they click on you, they respond to us, as they sing from you, so they pick up from us, what they say from you, we think about it?

The bourgeoisie left, but soon returned back.

– No, Chief Bourgeois, Malchish-Kibalchish did not reveal the Military Secret to us. He laughed in our face.

“There is,” he says, “the strong Red Army has a powerful secret. And whenever you attack, you will not win.

“There is,” he says, “and innumerable help. And no matter how much you throw into prisons, you will not have peace either on a bright day or on a dark night.

“There are,” he says, “and deep secret passages. But no matter how much you search, you still won't find it. And they would have found it, so don’t fill it up, don’t lay it down and don’t fall asleep. And I won’t say anything more to you, the bourgeoisie, but to you, damned ones, you will never guess.

Then the Chief Bourgeois frowned and said:

- Make, bourgeois, this secretive Malchish-Kibalchish the most terrible torment that exists in the world, and extort from him the Military Secret, because we will have neither life nor peace without this strange Mystery.

The bourgeoisie have gone, but now they will not return soon. They walk and shake their heads.

- No, - they say, - our chief Bourgeois. Pale, he stood, Malchish, but proud, and he did not tell us his Military Secret, because he had such a Solid Word. And when we left, he sank to the floor, put his ear to the heavy stone of the cold floor. And would you believe it, - oh, the Chief Bourgeois, - he smiled so that we, the bourgeoisie, shuddered, and we became scared: that he had not heard our inevitable death walking through the secret passages ... "

- This is not secret ... This is the Red Army galloping! - Karasikov, who could not bear it, cried out enthusiastically.

And he waved his hand with an imaginary saber so belligerently that the same jumping girl who until recently, jumping on one leg, fearlessly teased him “Karasik-rugasik”, looked at him with displeasure and, just in case, moved away.

Natka wanted to continue the story, but stopped, because from afar there was a signal for breakfast.

“Tell me,” Alka said commandingly, looking angrily into her face.

“Tell me,” the flushed Ioska said convincingly. “We’ll quickly line up for this.

Natka looked back. None of the kids got up. She saw many, many childish heads - blond, dark, chestnut, golden-haired. Eyes looked at her from everywhere: large, brown, like Alka's; clear, cornflower blue, like that blue-eyed woman who asked for a fairy tale; narrow, black, like Emine's. And many, many other eyes - usually cheerful and mischievous, but now thoughtful and serious.

- Okay guys, I'll tell you.

“- And we were afraid, Chief Bourgeois, that he had not heard how our inevitable death was walking through the secret passages.

- What kind of country is this? – then exclaimed the surprised Chief Bourgeois. - What kind of incomprehensible country is this, in which even such small ones know the Military Secret and hold their Solid Word so tightly?

Hurry, bourgeoisie, and destroy this proud Malchish. Load up your cannons, take out your sabers, open our bourgeois banners, because I hear our signalers sounding the alarm, our wavers waving their flags. It can be seen that we will now have a difficult battle, but a hard battle.

- And Malchish-Kibalchish died ... - Natka said.

At these unexpected words, the face of the Octobrist Karasikov suddenly became sad, bewildered, and he no longer waved his hand. Blue-eyed, glorious, she frowned, and Ioska's freckled face became angry, as if he had just been deceived or offended. The guys stirred, whispered, and only Alka, who already knew this fairy tale and the whole Military Secret, he alone looked straight and calm.

“But did you guys see the storm?” - Natka asked loudly, carefully looking at the silent guys, - Just like thunders, military guns rumbled. Just like lightning, fiery explosions flashed. Just like the winds, cavalry detachments burst in, and just like clouds, red banners swept through - this is how the Red Army advanced.

Have you seen torrential thunderstorms in a dry, hot summer? Just as the streams, running down from the dusty mountains, merged into turbulent foamy streams, just as at the first rumble of war, uprisings began to boil in the Mountain bourgeoisie, and thousands of angry voices responded, and from the Plain Kingdom, and from the Snow Kingdom, and from the Sultry State .

And the defeated Chief Bourgeois fled in fear, loudly cursing this country with its amazing people, with its invincible Army and its unsolved Military Secret.

And Malchish-Kibalchish was buried on a green mound near the Blue River. And they put a big red flag over the grave.

Steamboats are sailing - hello to the Malchish!

Pilots are flying by - hello to Malchish!

Steam locomotives will run - hello to Malchish!

And the pioneers will pass - salute to the Malchish!